


Harsh Reality

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [27]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Blogging, First Kiss, Insanity, Last Kiss, M/M, Moriarty is Dead, Obsession, Sentiment, Sheriarty - Freeform, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1788265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bored. There hasn't been a decent spot of crime since I got back. Shame Moriarty is dead. Oh well. I hear there's a better consulting criminal in Belarus. Might have to go on vacation."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harsh Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #71: Obsession

Staring at his old blog, _The Science of Deduction_ , Sherlock waits.

And waits.

And waits. 

It had been years since he'd made a new post. Years since there were any new comments. Everyone had eventually transitioned to John's less-than-superior internet diary, leaving his 243 types of tobacco ash definitively ignored.

However, Sherlock knew that at least _one_ person was still paying attention. For that reason, at this very moment, he's writing a new post: 

 

**Bored. There hasn't been a decent spot of crime since I got back. Shame Moriarty is dead. Oh well. I hear there's a better consulting criminal in Belarus. Might have to go on vacation.**

 

Of course, there _isn't_ a better consulting criminal. There isn't another one _at all_. _However, Jim is a man of great pride in his work. And takes my word for scoping out the dark elements. If he thinks I've found someone better… well, he'll just have to come out of hiding, won't he?_

It's a slim hope that Sherlock nurtures, but desperation for his equal back has driven him up a tree. Five minutes pass. There isn't a response. Another five. _Still nothing_.

He's taken to habitually refreshing the page. Days go by. Another post:

 

**Okay, I tried goading you. I apologize, that was rude. The sentiment still stands.**

 

But still, there isn't a response. _They never found a body. They never reported on Richard Brooke. Jim can't be dead… if nothing else, he'd probably have the funds set aside for a lavish funeral._ The detective isn't even sure if he's justified anymore, or if he's been feeding himself lies. Or if he's finally crossed the line, his perceived fantastical view of the world far more pleasant than reality. 

 

**If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to continue our last conversation.**

 

Ah yes. The rooftop. Sherlock raises his hand to caress his lips, subconsciously trying to recreate the feeling. Moriarty had shot his hand forward to hug Sherlock, but settled for a handshake. 

Unbeknownst to Sherlock, Jim had already made the decision to die. _Fuck it_ , the criminal thought, using their clasped hands to leverage Sherlock forward, momentarily connecting their lips. Sherlock was flustered, having never kissed before. But before he could open his mouth to ask what that was all about, Jim pulled out the gun. 

 

**It's not polite to leave me hanging.**

 

Months, and there is no sign that Jim will return. Sherlock counts the seconds, passes the time by solving mysteries and trying hopelessly to link them back to Moriarty's criminal web. Every day, he comes up with a new theory on how Jim possibly survived:

 

**You used a blood bag. The gun signaled for a gunshot *sound* to be put forth. The gun itself sprayed some sort of paralytic in your system so you didn't move or need to blink. It was a good trick, but still a trick.**

 

Despite the self-imposed insanity, Sherlock is unfortunately all-to-aware of what he's feeling: _Obsession. Pure obsession._

 


End file.
